


i wish i was homeward bound

by actualbluesargent



Series: be by my side [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Married Couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 07:50:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13072419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actualbluesargent/pseuds/actualbluesargent
Summary: Clarke misses Bellamy, when she's away.





	i wish i was homeward bound

**Author's Note:**

> how do we deal with not knowing anything about bellarke in s5? copious amounts of fluff, obviously.
> 
> title from homeward bound by Simon & Garfunkel.

Clarke holds her coffee between her two hands as she watches the train platforms. Tucked between her fingers is her ticket for a train leaving in twenty minutes, yet to arrive in the station. She takes a sip, battling against the yawn that pulls at her mouth and the exhaustion that tugs at her eyelids.

Her phone buzzes, and she pulls it out of her coat pocket to check.

**Bellamy:** Isaac wanted me to tell you that he read a book all by himself in school today. 

**Me:** Tell him I’m proud of him. 

I miss you guys

**Bellamy:** Yeah, we miss you too.

A month away from her family was tough. She’d known it would be, but there’s a difference between expecting to miss her husband and son and the real tug in her gut every night when she got home to her hotel room. The way her thoughts would stray to her bed, where her sheets were warm and her husband slept, to the sing-song of her son’s voice as he sang to himself when he didn’t think his parents could hear him. The useless wish every time she got a train ticket and wished it was going home, instead of farther away. 

When the train arrives, she joins all the waiting passengers in heading for the doors. She’s old hand at the process now, knows how to hold her suitcase so she doesn’t get stuck in the barriers letting her onto the platform, knows how to avoid bumping into strangers.

The train is relatively empty, and no-one in Clarke’s carriage goes to sit next to her. She takes out her sketchpad, intending to do some drawing to pass the time, but her head droops, and she falls asleep nearly the moment the train pulls out of the station.

She dreams, as she often does, of Bellamy. More of details than him in full; just passing images. His laugh echoing in a room. The dark curls, matching his sons. His hands, always in motion. His freckles, like stars scattered across him face. The feeling of his arms around her first thing in the morning. The gentleness in his eyes as he hands her her morning coffee. 

When the train pulls into her destination, her stomach is warm with the comfort of love, while her heart still feels tugged for someone she can’t immediately hold. She runs her hand through her hair in an attempt to tidy it somewhat, and aggressively blinks her eyes to try and wake herself up. 

Stepping out of the station, she pulls her coat close to her against the cold, and flags down a taxi. She watches as the lights of the city fly by, bright colours bleeding into each other through the raindrops on the window. She has trouble not falling asleep in the taxi, but she makes it. 

She steps out of the car, handing the driver his money and thanking him profusely. Her destination is a tall building, grey and unassuming, but in a charming way. 

She takes the elevator up five floors, as she knows to, and turns left down the hall, finds the door whose number matches that on her key. She pushes the door open, and doesn’t pause to flick the lights on. She leaves her suitcase in the hallway, kicks her shoes off, and uses the wall to navigate her way through the apartment.

The door to her bedroom is slightly ajar, and she can’t help but smile; Bellamy never likes to close the door, in case Isaac needs him. She slips in the door, and quietly climbs into bed, across from her husband’s sleeping form.

He’s facing her side of the bed, one arm tucked under his head, the other draped over where she should be. She gingerly caresses his face, her thumb brushing lightly against his cheekbone. She watches as his eyelids flutter open, waits for him to realise.

“Clarke,” he breathes, a smile taking over his entire face, and god, she’d fall in love with him in that moment if she didn’t love him already. He sits up a little in his surprise, and she mirrors the action.

“Hi,” she says, soft. His arms reach out and he holds her close, his face tucked into her neck. She wraps her arms around his shoulders, thankful to have their comfort once again. 

“You didn’t tell me you were coming back tonight,” he says when he finally lets her go. His hand is loose at her waist now, his thumb gently brushing up and down. 

“I wanted to surprise you,” she says, a delicate smile on her lips. He sits up a little more, and kisses her, chaste and sweet, like he was making up for their time apart. His smile is sleepy when he pulls away - sleepy and content. 

“Consider me surprised,” he says, before yawning deeply.

She laughs, and tugs him down, so they’re both lying down again. “Go to sleep, Bell. I’ll still be here in the morning.”

She rests her head on his chest, and he wraps his arm around her. “Welcome home, Clarke,” he says into the dark. 

She closes her eyes, moves closer to him. She smiles, despite herself.

Home.


End file.
